I grew up in Freeport, Illinois, and in high school, I wrote humor pieces for our school newspaper.
(It’s called The Pretz News because our school mascot was a pretzel. Weird, right? The weirdest thing about it was that we didn’t think it was weird. It was all we knew.)
In all seriousness, these were the most creatively satisfying years of my life. I wrote pretty much whatever I wanted, I had a regular audience, and I could instantly tell if my pieces were any good — because when they were, kids would come up to me in the hallway and tell me I’d just made them laugh; and when they weren’t, the same kids would tell me I sucked.
Thirty-five years later, that kind of honest feedback from an engaged audience about a piece of writing I created is still the biggest reason I get up in the morning and try to do this job.